First Jewelweed of Summer

 

The Woods, the Meadow, the Lake

Make time before time gets away!

We woke up early, in the dark, Sunny and I. Reluctantly, I got organized for the drive out to the highway with a red bag for the weekly morning garbage pickup. (I don’t put a bag out every week but don’t like to skip more than one or two.) The sky before sunrise was lovely with soft pink clouds, and quickly I came to an executive decision: Sunny and I deserved a vacation! I could still open the bookstore on time in Northport after having most of the morning for adventures, and Shalda Creek was calling my name.

Magic in every mood --

It might have seemed natural to go straight to the beach, but I always have other priorities south of Bohemian Road. First, a slow drive down washboard almost to the end of Lake Michigan Road and then a walk to and beyond the very end. The road didn’t used to end there, I told Sunny. She isn’t always the most eager listener, but she tolerates my irrelevant musings and reminiscences.

Then the meadow. 

That big old sentinel maple --

If the soil were better, the meadow would have completely filled in with trees by now, but instead there are only, still, plenty of waist-high bracken, colonies of horsemint, stands of black-eyed Susans, and of course northern Michigan’s ubiquitous bladder campion. With no driving permitted on it any more, the old two-lane grows fainter every year. 

This is the first place I ever identified horsemint.

Now I have a thing for it.

Green lake of bracken fern --

The last time the Artist and I walked the meadow was with our Peasy on Labor Day of 2021. Though we had no premonition that such would be the case, it was the end of our last summer together, so now that walk – I am so glad we went to the meadow that day! – is especially poignant for me, and as my feet follow the old road I relive not only that beautiful day but summer days of long ago, when the Artist’s famous “house in the woods” stood at the far end of the long, winding two-track. No trace of the house remains, except in memories of those who loved it.

She got her feet wet.

Finally I did take Sunny Juliet to the beach. It was only her second experience with Lake Michigan, but she waded in with considerably less skepticism this time, comfortable getting her feet wet. The lake was beautiful. Subtle. Rain is coming this afternoon, maybe even thunderstorms, but we had a morning of summer vacation, rich in memories for me and in novel sensations for Sunny, and I tell her what the Artist said so often to me: “We live in a beautiful place.”

 

Sunday Clouds and Sailboats

 

Too Soon They Leave, Too Fast They Fly

Why are these leaves in Omena changing color so soon? Will they fall before fall arrives or hang on through the winter?

Canada geese and sandhill cranes have not left yet but seem to be thinking about it, gathering their energy for the long journey south.

Follow the Road

 

I Meant to Say This Earlier

That is -- Good morning! What a beautiful, shining, sparkling morning after yesterday's rain! The day called out to Sarah, as it did to me, and we had to make time for a little adventure before our day in the bookstore. 

The water at the Bight looked heavenly in the morning sun.

Inland, away from the water, the world was no less lovely.

Sarah waited patiently while her dog-mom obsessed over tiny flowers and leaves and stones along the road (even bindweed and chicory looked great to me) -- and then we stretched our legs and ran back to the car, just for the fun of it!

Here are the fossil treasures I collected this morning. Sarah has her olfactory memories, and I my pocket objects.

Last Summer Weekend Begins

It's Friday morning of Labor Day weekend. How can it be? There is a nip in the air, but the sun is bright, the sky is blue, and everywhere you look, Northport is beautiful today, from Porcupine ...

to Barb's Bakery on Mill Street ...

to the beautiful library gardens ...

to Ed, singing his heart out down at the south end of the farmers market ... and, last but hardly least, here on Waukazoo Street:

Summer on the Wing

Some Up North summer mornings are magical. Moment by moment, they offer unexpected beauty, whether in the village or out on the back roads of the township. How many days are we fortunate enough to glimpse a great blue heron in flight along the creek? And why should someone have left a colorful bouquet on a country road signpost?

The truth is, though, that on a beautiful morning everything is beautiful -- the most "ordinary," quotidian scenes heartbreaking in their perfection. Ah, life! You shameless seducer, you!

Late Summer's Subtle Tones

Tall mullein spikes are flowering, and milkweed leaves are turning brown and gold, amid the lavender carpet of pesky, invasive spotted knapweed. If only the beauty of that invader's blossoms did not tint entire hillsides and fields with the color that tells us summer's end is drawing nearer --. If it were not quite so successful in taking over, it would doubtless be easier to hate. Instead, when morning walks or evening drives take me past open expanses in their August hues, I am carried back in memory to long-ago August vacations, the one or two weeks Up North that my downstate job permitted, and I feel again the poignancy of that fleeting time.

Someday, Hallelujah!

Have Summer Cherry Orchards Ever Been This Red Before?

Undoctored color --

Making Camera and Laptop Work Together

Little by little, I'm figuring a few things out.

Change of Season in the Air

Today may be the last day of summer, with temperatures dropping tonight to something more like fall.